


In Memory

by Anki_Shai



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blind Thranduil, Bottom Thranduil, Comfort/Angst, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Insecure Thranduil, Jealous Thranduil, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Memory Loss, Past Torture, Past and Present narrative, Thorin Is an Idiot, Thorin doesn't remember, Thranduil ends up hurt, Top Thorin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-23 15:52:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6121639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anki_Shai/pseuds/Anki_Shai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He saved him at a great price, his memory of what had happened between them was ripped from him. The payment for his sin was to love without being loved. </p>
<p>In the anniversary of the defeating of Smaug Thorin is present with a marriage proposal, just as the dreams of the past come to haunt him and show him where his real happiness lies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dreams of the Present

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!   
> Well, seems like I'm back with another story that I hope you guys like. I'm going to keep working on my other ones but this one, well let's just said this one was pushing me to write it down. So, here it is. I really hope you guys like this one, as always English is not my mother tongue so I hope you forgive any grammar, spelling or funny mistakes.

**Chapter 1**

**The Dreams of the Present**

He had that dream again.

The fresh cold of the night felt soothing on his heated skin. Sweat rolled down his cheeks while his heart threatened to hammer out of his chest, he turned around leaving the bed in favor of making his way to the cleaning room. The cold water brought some relief to his skin, his eyes watched the ripples of water while he worked out the details of the dream that had been hunting his nights ever since he came back to the throne.

Thorin knew sleep would not come again that night. He went back to his room and put on some clothes on before making his way to the Great Hall.

Erebor was still asleep when it's King stepped inside the halls, the lights coming from the torches played hunting shadows on his bearded face as he walked with determination to the kitchens. He was still pretty much haunted by the memories of his dream and by the memory lost he had suffered after his kidnapping. Thorin knew things had not been the same ever since one of the servants of the Great Eye almost ended his life.

"You couldn't sleep either?"

Thorin jerked up startle, he turned his head to the source of the voice to find Bilbo sitting at a table by the dying fire.

"Master Baggins, I imagine you will be resting in the rooms we made for you."

"You imagine, eh?' Bilbo shot an amused stare to the dwarf before setting back on the chair. "I was having strange dreams, so I came here to clear up my mind."

Thorin narrowed his eyes stepping forward. The room went silent; the dwarf went to the nearest counter to serve himself a cup of water.

"And you Thorin?"

Thorin drunk his water in a single sip, he lowered his gaze before facing Bilbo.

"I had a dream as well" His voice came low, contemplative and this perked Bilbo's curiosity up.

"What kind of dream?"

Thorin pursed his lips together eyeing the hobbit with the same critical stare he had looked upon Bilbo when they met for the first time.

"I dream about my kidnapping." Thorin said flatly.

Bilbo tensed with his blue eyes on Thorin, the dwarf seemed concentrated as if trying to grasp the meaning of his own dreams, as if he was looking for a piece of a big puzzle.

"Anything important?" Bilbo asked casually though his mind was feeling of the possibilities of Thorin remembering something in a dream hours before King Thranduil was schedule to arrive.

Thorin shrugged looking away, "Nothing. I can't remember great things yet...just emotions and the torture."

“What is it?" Bilbo asked when Thorin trailed off furrowing his brows thoughtfully.

"You must think I'm losing my mind, Master Baggins but..." Thorin hesitated again though he gave Bilbo a longing stare. "I think I wasn't alone there and I...feel as if I'm missing something important, something that had been leaving me empty since I came back."

Bilbo watched as Thorin went to serve himself another cup of water, the hobbit bit the inside of his cheek thinking about all the things he could say, all the blank spaces he could fill in if he were to open his mouth. However, he didn’t.  Bilbo remained silent watching Thorin while keeping the secrets that could change the fate and happiness of his friends in a heartbeat. The hobbit pursed his lips lowering his eyes to the ashes of the decaying fire, he needed to find a way around his promise to Thranduil.

The question was: how?

* * *

 

Once the sun touched the land, the conversation Bilbo and Thorin held in the kitchens was forgotten. Erebor became a buzzing hive as everyone was getting ready the welcoming feast for the King of the Woodland Realm as well as the King of Dale and some great personalities from the Iron Hills. Never before had Erebor hosted such a great event, but the date was important enough to share with their neighbors and their allies. Almost five years ago Smaug had fallen and the Heirs of Durin had been reclaimed what was rightfully theirs.

Thorin admired the heavy robes and the crafting around Fíli’s belt, the young dwarf was looking pretty much like the Prince he was supposed to be; he wore close-fitting breeches with a tight surcoat while his forehead wore the crown of the reign Prince. Thorin and Dís couldn’t help their pride at watching Fíli in such an extraordinary dressing while showing off his abilities with the protocol. To the right of Fíli was Kíli, the young dark-haired dwarf was showing off an easy smile on his lips, his beard had been trimmed and his head wore a thick circlet with the symbols of the House of Durín. He also wore close-fitting breeches made of black and a tight shirt with a coat combining green and silver. Both of them were greeting the emissaries and the different guest with easy words and the right protocol.

“Here comes the Elven committee.” Dwalin commented to Thorin’s left, Thorin felt his muscles tense at the mention of the elves. His eyes lift eagerly looking for the pointy-ear creatures while ignoring the sudden hammering of his heart.

Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, was looking as magnificent as always.

He stood proudly at the gates, his head adorned with an autumn crown with his hair falling in a golden waterfall behind his back. His body was tightly covered by a long robe made of silver while his legs were covered by black leggings and high-boots. On his waist there were two swords with gold and green gems on the handles; his face was impassive and almost disdainful while his eyes seemed to ignore the rest of the room while stepping in with long, calculate strides.

Thorin clenched his fists when he realized Fíli and Kíli had moved forward eagerly to great the elf but Thranduil seemed to barely register them. The elf didn’t even bother to look at them and he even dared to step back when Kíli made an attempt to grab his left hand. Then out of nowhere came Bard, the young man smiled brightly hugging Thranduil tightly and standing suspiciously close to the elf. Thranduil returned the smile, his eyebrows lifted and his mouth move; Thorin clenched his fists for whatever the elf had said had made the King of Dale turn red.

“Are you all right?” Bilbo startled the dwarven King with his question, the hobbit was glancing at him with confusion though realization soon touched his features when the hobbit caught sight of Thranduil.

“That arrogant bastard…” Thorin merely whispered. “He thinks himself above my people, above my nephews. He wasn’t even looking at them! But, Bard comes over and then everything is different! Why did we invite him? He hasn’t changed one bit! He still hates dwarves.”

Dís shot Bilbo a quick glance giving her back to them while trying to distract their guests of her brother’s silent conversation with the hobbit. Bilbo looked away to hide the conflict from his eyes, he caught sight of Legolas who was looking at him and Thorin with narrowed eyes.

“He helped you, remember?” Bilbo finally asked gauging any kind of recognition in his friends face.

Thorin went red in the face, huffing and crossing his arms he replied in a harsh whisper, “He didn’t help me! He cursed me! He turned his back on me! He touched my Arkenstone!”

“Ugh, when you said it like that it sounds kindda pervy, you know?” Thorin jumped startle again, making a mental note to put some bells on his friends so this didn’t happen again.

“Do not even mention it, Bofur!” Thorin shook his head with indignation. “I shiver to the mere thought, and not the good kind of shivers.”

Bofur stood beside Thorin placing an easy hand on the dwarf’s shoulder giving him a half-smile. “Never said never, my King.”

Thorin opened his mouth to ask just what Bofur meant by his comment when Dís cleared her throat.

“King Thranduil, Prince Legolas, Captain Tauriel, here is my brother and King of Erebor and one of the great Kingdoms of the Dwarven Lords, Thorin Oakenshield.” Dís made a gesture with her hand presenting her brother who now how a strange red coloring on his cheeks.

Thorin lifted his head to stare at Thranduil who seemed to be holding a smile, his lips were curled upwards while his left eyebrow was barely lift. His eyes, of a gleaming silver, seemed to be pinning the dwarf to the ground. For a brief moment, a sharp pain went right through Thorin’s head and the dwarf couldn’t help the exclamation of pain from escaping his lips. His eyesight went blurry and a vision of white and silver crossed his mind.

“Thorin!” The Dwarven-King found himself being held upwards by his sister, when he turned his eyes to Thranduil the Elven-King was looking blankly at him. Thorin was so focused on the elf’s face, he never noticed the hand of Legolas holding Thranduil back.

“Are you all right? What happened?” Dís made sure her brother was fine while crossing stares with Bilbo.

“Yes, just a headache.” Thorin mumbled shaking his head.

“One may think you have gotten rid of those after so long, King Thorin.” Thranduil spoke for the very first time, his voice felt like a cold knife to Thorin’s heart.

Thorin furrowed his brows straightening himself up, he took a step forward, then another until he was pretty close to the elf. The Dwarven-King realized up close Thranduil wasn’t so tall, that he could grab the elf’s robes and put him to his eye level. Thorin’s fingers flickered at the thought, while his groin reacted with longing; the dwarf shook away any lustful thoughts for this wasn’t the time not the right person to be feeling them.

“One may think a coward like yourself would understand the scars of battles are not easy to get rid of.” Thorin spat out with anger and resentment. “But, that would be to ask too much of the great Thranduil, the betrayer and the coward. I do not think you even know what it means to be hurt in battle, or to sacrifice yourself for those you love.”

“ _Legolas, daro!_ _”_

Thorin was pushed back by someone coming from behind him, his blue eyes opened surprised at the sight of Legolas grabbing his sword ready to strike. The Dwarven-King opened his mouth to speak while shooting angered stares to Legolas then to Thranduil.

“Uncle, please stop.” Fíli was standing behind him with his hand firmly grasping the dwarf’s shoulder.

“I was telling nothing but the true.” Thorin grumbled feeling his pride wound and his heart hurting.

“I know, King Thorin.” Thranduil replied. “I apologize for my son’s behavior. Rest assured it won’t happen again.”

Thranduil gave a little bow-head and then turned around, Thorin followed his retreating form feeling the need to stop the elf. He returned his attention back to his family and friends all of them were glaring reprovingly at him.

“I was telling the true.” Thorin replied crossing his arms.

“You don’t understand, uncle.” Kíli said shaking his head. “That was uncalled for. If you excuse me, I have some matters to attend.”

Kíli left following the elven committee, Thorin looked around seeking answers but there was a pact silence around him. Suddenly, Thorin found Dwalin in the midst of his friends and he nodded at him.

“You agree with me, don’t you Dwalin?”

“You are my King, Thorin. I agree with you in almost everything.” Dwalin commented. “But on this, I have to ask what came over you to say such things.”

Thorin opened his mouth but as he did so he had to wonder exactly the same thing. The Dwarven-king blinked a couple of time, he cocked his head and soon his blue eyes found the ethereal form of King Thranduil. The inside of his mind pulled at some familiar yet forgetful emotion on his heart, his head was hurting as he tried to remember or to understand why he was thinking he hurt Thranduil in a very cruel and unfair way.

 

* * *

 

The welcoming feast was a great success amongst the people of Erebor.

While the people of Erebor feast outside the walls of the Royal Palace, Thorin was enjoying his dinner with his honorable guests in the Great Hall. A large table had been placed and decorated  with different forms of food and beverages; due to this being a celebration of the recovering of Erebor, Thranduil ad Bard were sitting each at one side of Thorin. The dwarven-King was doing everything in his power to ignore Thranduil and, from Thorin’s point of view, Thranduil seemed to be doing the same. Bard seemed to be the only one speaking amongst them, Bard and Legolas while Thorin played with his food shooting side glances to Thranduil.

The elf seemed concentrated on his food, his lips would curled up in a soft smile whenever his son laughed or they heard other comments coming from around the table. But, all through the dinner he was just silent, never looking at anyone but his plate and from time to time some point between Bard and Thorin.

Thorin leaned back on his chair with a golden cup on his hand, his blue eyes were fixated on Kíli who was narrating the way Bilbo had planned their escape from Thranduil’s halls. Thorin smirked at the memory of such an even, the empty dishes from the dinner were being retired and replace with more wine and beer; the Dwarven-King let his eyes travel around the table until they finally fell upon the Elven-King. Thranduil was leaning back on the chair as well, his expression seemed one of pure contemplation though the dwarf could detect a flash of sadness there. Something inside Thorin stirred, he felt his mind working around a vision of gold and white. A pressure started growing in his head, just as the memories of his dreams started making themselves clear. Thorin gripped the cup on his hand tightly almost hurting himself, the pain in his head was growing strong but the images that in another time had been blurry, were starting to become clear.

“My King Thorin.” A great, thunderous voice was heard and soon Thorin realized he had been distracted for far too long.

Thorin cleared his throat straightening himself up while trying to conceal his flustered expression behind his empty cup. He pretended to be drinking from it and, when he glanced at Thranduil he realized the elf had been looking at him all this time. Thorin grumbled still with his cup attached to his lips, though his heart skipped a beat when the elf gave him a half-smirk.

“King Thorin?” The voice broke the moment and Thorin made himself to look back to the dwarf speaking to him.

“Vikram!” Thorin thanked Mahal he remembered the name of one of the noble’s from Iron Hill. The old dwarf approached the King bowing before Thorin, the Dwarf-Lord shot Thranduil a spiteful glance before returning a more kind and open smile to Thorin.

“Vikram, what can I do for you?” Thorin inquired though now that he noticed it everyone was paying attention to them. Thorin furrowed his brows when he caught the strange glare Dáin was sending his way.

Vikram cleared his throat lifting a golden box and presenting it to Thorin, the dwarves around the table all started mumbling. Bilbo and Legolas turned their attention to Fíli and Kíli who were staring at the object with wide open eyes, Dís seemed to be frowning deeply while the dwarves from the Iron Hills sans Dáin were all wearing huge grins.

Thorin put on his best noncommittal expression, he nodded respectfully to the other Lord while awaiting for his next words, though this was something he wasn’t dying to do right now.

“I want to take this moment, since we are amongst friends and allies.” Vikram shot a quick dismissive glance to the elves before continuing. “And to take advantage of this great celebration, in which his Majesty the King of the Dwarven Kingdom of Durin and Lord of the Blue Mountains and Erebor to ask, humbly and quite earnestly for you to accept this as the courtship promise between his Majesty and my only daughter Dagna.”

Vikram opened the box lowering so Thorin could see the golden ring resting in there, instead of a fancy gem the ring had been adorned with the coat of arms from Vikram’s family. The Dwarven-King felt the eyes of everyone on him, he could sense his sister and his nephews and he could swore Thranduil was looking at him with intensity. The world around Thorin started spinning as he cocked his head to Lord Vikram who was smirking with self-satisfaction, as if patting himself on the back for such a master move. A marriage between Erebor and the Iron Hills would be the ultimate alliance between two great dwarven Kingdoms, it would make them stronger, richer and powerful.

The room was left in a tense silence, if Thorin had been paying attention to the rest of the table and not to his own conflicting emotions he would have noticed the sudden change in Thranduil. The Elven-King seemed paler and his face had turned to the left where his son was grabbing his hand in his.

Bilbo turned to Dís who was just as speechless and helpless as he was feeling, Kíli and Fíli were focusing their attention on their uncle while glancing at Thranduil every once in a while.

Then…

“It would be an honor to me and Erebor to accept this, Vikram.” Thorin finally answered standing up to grab the ring from the box and put it on his middle finger on his left hand.

The sound of cheers coming from the Dwarves of the Iron Hills was the only source of happiness at the table. Thorin received the embrace from Vikram, while his eyes followed the retreating form of Thranduil who seemed to be following his son out of the Great Hall.

That night, Thorin dreamt again.

  


	2. The Memories of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was how everything started, with a mission and an oncoming storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should explain some basics about this story; when I imagine it I did it in two different times the present and the past. So, this story is going to play with both sceneries until, at the very end, they will join in a conclusion. I hope you like it.  
> Once again, English isn't my mother tongue so I apologize for the spelling, grammar and funny mistakes.

**Chapter 2**

**The Memories of the Past**

 

_One year and three months ago_

 

Thorin had never liked to send his people out to the wilderness where danger seemed to be at their door. It had never been in his nature to run away from challenges, or from the enemy whoever this was. This was one of the reasons why he had opted to travel all the way to the path leading to Ered Mithrin. The journey had been a long and dangerous one, Thorin had taken with him the best of his warriors while leaving Fíli in charge of the Kingdom.

The weather had been against them ever since they reached the end of the path and the wild lands spread before them. Thorin had ordered his dwarves to set up a camp for the night while they looked over the news, the maps and what they had to keep on this wild quest. Dwalin came to settle beside him, one hand on his ax and the other on his hip.

“Nothing yet.” Dwalin grumbled shaking his head. “I think we’re not going to find more of those bastards.”

Thorin hummed cocking his head to the side, “I don’t know. They were waiting for us at the edge of the forest.

“A single team, nothin’ worth mentionin’.” Dwalin faced his friend with worry on his face. “Thorin, we can stay the night and then going down the Forest River near the hills but then…we’re coming back.”

Thorin couldn’t blame his best friend for such strong words, the rumors had been spreading around Middle Earth about a great danger growing on the South. While Dwarves were scared of no danger in the world, this growing darkness had brought with it shadows of the ancient past. Rumors about elves, men and dwarves dying horrible and gruesome deaths got to every great city in the world. The rumors about the servants of the new evil seeking desperately for something, a weapon or more power, no one could be sure. And just a few days ago, one of Erebor’s caravan was attacked and on one of the bodies had been attached, with a black blade, a note written in the dark tongue. A note where Thorin’s head was given a price.

“Very well, only because you’re fussing over me as if I was but an incapable child.” Thorin grumbled turning around.

“I’m only worried about you, my King.” Dwalin replied to which Thorin merely shook his head snorting.

The night fell around the world covering the land with darkness and freezing rain. The camp had been lifted and Thorin felt slightly bad for those who had the first guard in the middle of such a dreadful weather. He was in his tent looking over the map Bilbo had packed on his things, the hobbit had drawn the different paths with different colors according with certain peculiarities that could work on their favor. But, even with such a wonderful work, Thorin was still a little confused as to what was the right path, or even where they were exactly. He was pretty sure those hills down the river weren’t even drawn on the map. Thorin moved to his cot resting there while trying to clear up his mind, the sound of the wind and the falling rain felt soothing around his ears; his body started to relax and his eyes started closing. The Dwarven-King was falling asleep…slowly…surely…

The tent fell on him without any warning.

Thorin was struggling against the cloths while his ears caught the sound of fighting, growls and moan filled the rainy night while he continued struggling to free himself form the tent. The dwarf struggled until he saw the darkness of the night and felt the rain on his face, his eyes opened wide when he could see the shadow of a blade coming his way. It never reached him for at that same moment another blade came in the way.

Silver and glinting in the night, the elven blade cut through his enemy as if it was butter. Thorin blinked with the rain sliding down his face, the wind scratching at his face while his eyes focused on the form of the elf fighting right in front of him.

“Are you going to gap at me all night? Or are you actually going to grab your sword and fight, dwarf?”

Thorin could recognize that voice wherever he was, “Thranduil?”

“Move!” Thranduil pushed him down but before the dwarf could protest he saw the spear where he had been moments ago. Thranduil spun around, his sword cutting of the wood of the weapon while reaching the arm of the orc holding it.

Thorin finally realized the gravity of the situation he was in, he put the cloths of his tent around trying to look for Orcrist.  Another orc came at him, Thorin stood up holding his enemies hand with his left hand while punching the creature on the face. The orc grunted and Thorin kept on hitting him while grabbing the creatures scimitar in his own hand, the blade cut off the head of the orc and then came into contact with another of those foul creatures. Thorin stepped forward, his hand striking down the enemies surrounding him while his eyes caught the figures of the elves, gleaming silver and majestically, around the rest of the shadows fighting under the night sky. The wind on his sweaty skin felt refreshing, the scimitar strange on his hand while his heart beat unsteadily inside his chest; the lighting lit up the sky and the elves’ hands lifted strange lamps that brought a blue and white light to the now fallen camp.

“Thorin!” Dwalin came running towards him, his brows already joined in his customize concern expression.

“I’m all right.” Thorin grumbled while his eyes sought the owner of the blade that had saved his life not once but twice.

Thranduil stood his full height with a silver circlet adorning his forehead and his hair held back into a strange ponytail. The Elven-King wore on him light armor, his chest armor and gauntlets were of a deep green contrasting perfectly with the black leggings and boots; on his back there was a long bow and a fitting quiver with only half the arrows it was supposed to carry. Thorin admired the form of the elf from afar, his eyes trying to make sense of the glinting appearance of the elf. The dwarf kept his attention on the elf long enough to make Thranduil look back, when their eyes met Thorin creased his brows crossing his arms trying to ignore the strangeness behind Thranduil’s stare.

“I hate to admit it but, if it hadn’t been for the elves…” Dwaling started but soon trailed off when Thorin shot him a warning glare.

“I’ve been damned if I hear you say what I think you’re gonna say.” Thorin then made his way towards the Elven-King while Dwalin merely sighed tiredly.

Thranduil faced Thorin with his head lifted, his left hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Thorin realized those silver eyes were looking at him with a spark of amusement and something…something Thorin must be mistaken for concern. The dwarf snorted to himself at the mere thought before standing right in front of Thranduil.

“There is no need for you to thank me, King Thorin.”

“Oh, don’t worry, King Thranduil, I wasn’t about to do so.”

Legolas scowled at this though Thranduil felt his lips twitching slightly, Thorin smirked openly feeling satisfied by his own answer. Thranduil dismissed the comment with a wave from his hand, his eyes pinning Thorin to where he was standing.

“Then, what do you want, King Thorin?” Thranduil eyed the dwarf waiting for the answer.

Thorin looked around the fallen camp then back at Thranduil, “I find it highly suspicious for my people to be attacked in the middle of the night a group of orcs and then saved, conveniently, by you and your elves.”

Thranduil lifted an eyebrow at this, the elf couldn’t even hide his smirk this time around. To his side, Legolas huffed shaking his head but the young elf decided to leave this discussion to his father who seemed to be find some kind of amusement out of his constant fights with the dwarf.  Thorin gauged the elf in front of him waiting for a reaction, what he got was more amusement and patronizing stares coming from the elf. Thranduil stepped forward stretching his right hand towards Thorin, the dwarf felt the muscles of his shoulders tense while his heart seemed to stop working. Thorin warmed up when the hand of the elf touched his cheek, Thranduil was staring directly inside his eyes until the elf flickered his stare to the side tilting his head in a wary gesture.

“If this was some kind of plot to get to you or cause Erebor and yourself any harm, King Thorin, then I did a poor job by saving your life.” Thranduil commented his right hand moving back his

white hand now tainted with the blood coming from the wound Thorin hadn’t even notice was on his cheek.

“Legolas, make sure everyone is looked after.” Thranduil commanded his son without taking his eyes off of Thorin.

“Yes, Sir.” Legolas shot Thorin and his father one last glance before retreating.

The rain kept on falling on top of them, the cold was starting to sneak inside their clothes as the sound of distant chatter filled the silent space in between both Kings. Thranduil set his silvery stare on the dwarf standing before him, the elf pursed his lips in contemplation with his hand sneaking inside the pocket of his pouch. Thorin narrowed his eyes at such an action, his mistrust against the elf had always been an easy feature to read on his gestures; the elf tried to keep his upset smile off of his face while his hand revealed an old scroll.

“You don’t really think you’re the only one who knows about this growing shadow, do you, King Thorin?” Thranduil spoke softly but firmly, Thorin grabbed the scroll looking it over with contempt and disbelief. “You shouldn’t at so surprised, some of my elves had found scouts of orcs down my lands trying to recover the old fortress of Dol Guldur.”

“And thus, you decided to come over and claim the price?” Thorin had never been able to understand his own contentment against this particular elf. He knew he was being unfair and his question was something uncalled for; however the dwarf never thought he had the power to cut through the pride and the heart of the elf standing before him.

Thranduil clenched his jaw making his muscles tense, his eyes gleamed dangerously while his lips curved unpleasantly.

“I won’t dignify your spiteful words with an answer, it is obvious you are still holding tightly to the past to even notice what’s going on in the now.” Thranduil let go of the scroll Thorin had tried to give back. “I came here as a gesture of peace and friendship. If this cannot be accepted by you then, I will offer it to your company, to your nephews, to your sister and to the memory of the Dwarf Prince I met many moons ago on the Erebor before Smaug.”

Thorin was not capable of saying anything at all, his eyes focused on the dark message he was already familiar with. The price of his head was high, and apparently the elves had known this for a long time as well. The Dwarf-King turned around only to see Thranduil disappearing behind one of the tents the elves had built around the former dwarven camp; even if some of the dwarves were wary of this unexpected visitors, Thorin could see many of them were grateful for their coming. The rain continued falling, and Thorin had to wonder why he continued building up his resentment against Thranduil or why he hadn’t been capable of maintaining come semblance of civility with someone who was obviously making an effort to leave the past behind. 

* * *

 

When the morning arrived the gruesome sight of the fight the night before was uncovered to the eyes of both races.

Thorin walked around the bodies of the dead orcs, his chest and shoulders feeling the weight of the great dwarves he lost the night before. His lips twitched in anger with his feet taking him to the place where the young Elven Prince was standing silently. Legolas tilted his head slightly, his blue eyes taking in the form of the Dwarven-King before returning to his observation of the land.

“There is only darkness down this path.” Legolas finally spoke lowering his head, Thorin grumbled crossing his arms.

“Darkness is always there, we just have to fight against it.” Thorin replied nodding towards the hills down the river. “Last night was proof enough I am in the right path.”

“Perhaps, still I think it is very dangerous.” Legolas turned around looking around the camp then back to the King. “You should consider turning around right now. No one would think you a coward, no one would think you a lousy leader.”

“It is not about that.” Thorin replied shaking his head. “You elves…You don’t understand. I thank you for the helping hand you lend me and my people, but my quest is ending there not here.”

“There is no fighting against the stubbornness of dwarves, Legolas.” Thranduil came closer to where they were standing, Thorin felt his muscles stirred at the presence of the newcomer. “You will only find yourself being dragged to their level of foolishness.”

“Oh, look who’s talking?” Thorin reacted right away though he soon forgot what it was he was about to say when he realized Thranduil was wearing a dark blue light armor on his chest and his golden hair falling softly on his back and held back by the same circlet he had been using the night before. His legs were wrapped around leather pants with high boots and his waist was decorated with the sheaths of his swords.

Thranduil caught Thorin’s eyes and they found themselves staring until Thranduil turned away, Thorin furrowed his brows trying to break the sudden spell he found himself in. He glanced at Thranduil again waving away the image of the red tinging the elf’s cheeks after all, who had ever heard of a flustered elf?

“King Thorin, everything is ready.” Dwalin came to them eyeing with certain suspicion the elves around his King.

“Very well, then I guess we shall go.” Thorin replied with determination.

“I guess we shall.” Thranduil commented with firmness in his voice; Thorin, Dwalin and Legolas turned to face him with surprised on their faces.

“Father? You cannot be serious!” Legolas seemed rather conflicted by his father’s declaration, and he felt dread at the pit of his stomach when he saw the determination behind his father’s eyes.

“Yes, what makes you think I want you coming?” Thorin inquired as well though he knew the company of the elves could work on his advantage he wasn’t about to admit this to the elf standing before him.

Thranduil waved his hand impassive, “Please, I do not need your permission to do as I please, King Thorin. As to why I am coming, it is rather obvious, is it not?”

Legolas and Thorin looked at one another as if wondering if there was something they were missing, Thranduil couldn’t help but offered a half-smirk filled with arrogance and amusement.

“If I don’t come, who is going to save your royal self, Thorin?”

Dwalin rolled his eyes when the Elven-King walked away with a satisfied smirk on his face and a spluttering dwarf following behind him.  Thorin felt so easily in the clutches of the elf it wasn’t even funny anymore, the old warrior shook his head and he was about to join his King when something strange caught his eyes.  Legolas was standing his full height, under the grey sky of Arda’s morning he was looking more like a tired tree than the young growing sprout Dwalin had face five years ago on the quest to Erebor. The young elf was showing age beyond Dwalin’s comprehension, probably for the very first time Dwalin understood the weight of immortality all Eldar carried with them.

“Is everything all right, Lad?” Dwalin wasn’t sure why he was asking, he certainly didn’t care much about it but there was something about the haunting glint on the elf’s eyes that made Dwalin shiver with dread.

“Keep a close eye on your King, Master Dwalin.” Legolas commented furrowing his brows, he turned around and his eyesight went directly to the hills down the river.

“Why?” Dwalin followed the elf’s eyes narrowing them to try and see whatever it was the elf was looking for.

“There is something unsettling in the air.” Legolas clenched his fists. “My soul is restless and I can’t keep this sense of dread to overcome my heart. Something is brewing and in the midst of all of this is your King and mine.”

Dwalin scrunched his nose thinking Legolas word’s to be utter rubbish; however, something about the young elf told him this was something unusual. Even for an elf. The old warrior turned his eyes to the hills again, his heart contracted unpleasantly.

“I watch yours if you watch mine.” Dwalin finally said, looking sideways to Legolas.

The young elf felt his lips curled up slightly, though he gave a short nod. “Let us hope I am wrong and the only danger is for them to bicker until we can finally part ways.”

Dwalin turned his attention back to Thorin who was now engaged in another discussion with the Elven-King- While a he part of Dwalin didn’t believe in what Legolas had just shared, another part of him was asking the sky for the elf to be wrong.

Still, the feeling of oncoming doom didn’t leave Legolas or Dwalin, not even when the sun sneaked around and the land was finally blessed with a bright and warm morning filled with promises meant to be broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is our first glance to the past.  
> Next chapter, Bilbo decides he doesn't have time to lose, Fíli and Kíli seemed to be mad about this new engagement while Thorin's dreams start taking the form of a long forgotten obssession of his.


	3. The things we don't say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the present, there are things we don't say but we feel, things we don't reveal but we dream about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> Again, English is not my mother tongue so forgive any grammar, spelling or funny mistake you may find here.  
> This is a new chapter and this one happens in the present. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 3**

**The Things We Don't Say**

The Elven-King of Mirkwood stood in the middle of the cavern, his head was tilted to the side while his right hand rested upon the base made of stone to his side. His fingertips touched the rough surface, he felt the sharp edges of the stone while his ears caught no sound whatsoever but that of his own heartbeat. He opened his mouth to let out a painful sigh, his fists clenching tightly with an unbearable pain shaking his heart; he knew coming to Erebor would hurt him again. His decision to come to Erebor had been born out of foolishness, the Elven-King hoped time had changed the circumstances that had pushed him away from the Dwarven-King. However, nothing seemed to have change, if anything things had been evolving for Thorin and he was now ready to build a life for him and the Kingdom. A life that didn’t include Thranduil.

The silence grew around him, his body trembled as he came to this realization. The Elven-King cursed his own weakness and inability to keep himself detached from the growing emotions in his heart. He lifted his face but all he could see was darkness.

Once again, he had been denied happiness.

Once again, the world showed him he was to love but never to be loved back. This time around, though, his soul and heart felt tired and colder…as if there was no more life left in him.

Thranduil lowered his head as the only sign of defeat he would show to the shadows. No one outside the cavern could know about his sorrow, he was meant to endure alone the overwhelming emotions in his chest. The Elven-King felt his body tensed when he sensed and smelled the sudden changed in the atmosphere of the empty cavern, he didn’t move though his ears soon caught the whispering brush of footsteps.

“So, here is where you’re hiding.” Bilbo’s voice resounded in the cave, Thranduil furrowed his brows slightly as his body vibrated with the sound of the hobbit’s voice. “I went looking for you almost two hours ago. Never thought I would find you here, how did you even find this place?”

Bilbo approached the Elven-King looking around the enormous cave, the light coming from the diamonds attached to the walls of the cave brought a strange, mystical light to the chamber. Thranduil fixed his position so his face was turn to the hobbit, he rested against the stone he was touching a moments ago with Bilbo moving to stand right beside him.

“A certain someone led me here.” Thranduil replied with a soft smile on his face, Bilbo eyed the elf with curiosity. “Kíli seemed rather excited to show something magnificent to Tauriel. But, he didn’t want to leave me alone.”

“And still, here you are. Alone.” Bilbo replied dryly looking around the cavern. “Where are they?”

Thranduil pointed to the far end of the cavern with his hand, he didn’t need to turn to know where he was pointing. It wasn’t as if turning around was to help him any; Bilbo looked behind them nodding.

“I see. He is showing her the lake.” Bilbo chuckled softly before turning to Thranduil. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

Thranduil lowered his head before answering with a tinge of sadness in his voice, “I wanted to be alone.”

“I found this place peaceful, so I stay.” The King replied tilting his head slightly, “I can’t hear any noise, but that of my own breathing. Besides, it’s not as if I was going to see anything.”

Bilbo pursed his lips scrunching up his nose, “I don’t think that’s fun at all. I guess I’ve been around dwarves and their constant noise I wouldn’t be capable of understanding such quietness.”

Thranduil gave a half-smile, “Indeed, I believe it will be unbearable after getting used to them.”

Bilbo winced understanding the deepness behind Thranduil’s words, silence fell between them the lights flickering slightly. Thranduil lowered his face though his eyes seemed to be unmoving, focused on a sight only he could see.

“How have you been?” The hobbit asked with concern in his tone. “It had been so long since we last saw each other. I thought…Well, I thought you were going to decline this invitation as well.”

Thranduil felt his body tense, his jaw clenched slightly before lifting his head, “I thought about it.”

Bilbo nodded, “But, you couldn’t.”

“I want to see him.” Thranduil continued lowering his head, it wasn’t until that moment Bilbo got to see the sorrow engraved in the beautiful face of the elf. Bilbo felt a wave of sympathy grew on him, he placed a hand on the elf’s face trying to reassure the King while seeking the right words to say.

“I didn’t think he was going to say yes.” Bilbo finally said wincing when Thranduil stepped back as if he had burn the elf.

“It is only logical. Thorin is a King to a great Kingdom, he needs to establish a good alliance as well as marriage that will assure him Erebor will always have an heir of Durin on the throne.” As Thranduil spoke, Bilbo realized his voice had turned cold and detached of any emotion.

“You should talk to him.” Bilbo said glancing at the elf out of the corner of his eye.

“Whatever for?” There was bitterness behind the elf’s voice, Bilbo stood in front of Thranduil furrowing his brows.

“You know why, King Thranduil.” Bilbo crossed his arms. “He has a right to know! You have a right to finally say what happen then! You need to stop hiding and show Thorin why you cannot…”

“Don’t.” Thranduil snarled clenching his fists. “He needs to know nothing, Bilbo. My pain is my own. He is free now, knowing what happened all those months ago can only bring pain to him.”

Bilbo opened his mouth to refute but he realized he could say nothing. Thranduil had convinced himself a long time ago that his feelings towards Thorin and the whole situation were of no importance as long as Thorin was well and happy. Ever since they came back, Thorin had made it clear he didn’t need to remember what had happened to them for every time he tried to do so only pain and suffering came to the dwarf. No, Thranduil’s heart would endure the sorrow as long as Thorin was well.

“You know? The first time Fíli and Kíli brought me here we got lost.” Bilbo commented changing the topic abruptly, Thranduil snorted quirking a brow at Bilbo. “It was our first time here. I don’t know why I follow them but I did, we end up deep inside the mountain, near a beautiful lake waiting for someone to find us.”

“Lady Dís must have been excited about it.” Thranduil commented dryly. “I can already imagine the scolding she bestowed upon you and her children.”

“That she did.” Bilbo chuckled. “We were lost for two days.”

Thranduil chuckled slight while his heart and mind unloaded the extra weight he had been carrying since last night. He had ran away as soon as his legs and his own blindness allowed him, the announcement Thorin had brought during the dinner was enough to leave Thranduil with yet another wound he was sure would pierce his heart for a long time.

“Kíli and Tauriel had been gone for too long, would you mind going with me to see what they’re up to?” Bilbo inquired shooting a curious glance to the elf in front of him.

Thranduil nodded curtly turning slightly, he made a gesture with his hand showing of a half-smile, “Please, Master Baggins, after you.”

“Right, you don’t need…” Bilbo trailed off when Thranduil quirked a single eyebrow, the hobbit nodded briefly turning around. “Of course not, you don’t need my help. Follow me.”

The cavern opened before them with the diamonds adorning the walls flickering as they walked forward, Bilbo made sure his footsteps made right amount of sound for Thranduil to follow him as they advanced through the semi-darkened cavern. Every once in a while, Bilbo would turn around to see Thranduil waking right beside him; the Elven-King stood proudly, his footsteps never faltered and they looked confident and determined. No one would think there was something missing on the elf, Bilbo returned his attention to the path stretching out before him.

“It is said, apparently, that the waters inside Erebor had a certain…healing property.” The voice of the hobbit broke the silence, his voice made an echo in the chamber.

“They do?” Thranduil quirked a brow in amusement, though he swallowed down his emotions. “I hope, Master Baggins, you’re not taking me too these waters with the excuse to go and bring Tauriel and Kíli back. I do not need healing.”

“Of course not.” Bilbo snorted. “I learnt a long time ago about the stubbornness of elves, right around the same time I got use to the stubbornness of dwarves.”

The Elven-King merely smiled, for some reason he quite liked Bilbo’s snarky comments and tendency to break all protocol when addressing him. It was refreshing and brought certain comfort to the elf.

“Then, why the comment?” Thranduil lifted his right hand placing it carefully on the wall, he raised a brow when his hand found the smooth surface of the stone. For this to be a cavern no one had been in, to be this smooth made the elf think of some kind of mortal work.

“I just…” Bilbo trailed off. “I’m not sure.”

They continued their walk without speaking, by the time they had reached the end of the path they had taken Thranduil started feeling the rough, bumpy surface of the mountain on his hand. He furrowed his brows but before he could say anything he heard laughter and muffled conversation, Bilbo stopped snorting.

“They’re down this road.” Bilbo turned to Thranduil. “I guess they’re having fun.”

“It seems that way.” Thranduil chuckled when he heard more laughter. “At least, they could break the cursed breaking our races apart.”

“They’re not the only ones.” Bilbo commented placing a hand on top of Thranduil’s right one.

“But, they’re the only ones that matter.” Thranduil replied.

“I have my answer to your early question to my comment about the healing properties of the lake.” Bilbo said he caught the elf’s attention who had his head inclined to his right.

“And, what is it?”

“I mentioned them because I am certain that you need healing, that you need to understand and forgive yourself for what happen.” Bilbo said with certainty. “And, once you have done so, you will be able to go up there and face Thorin then, perhaps, the both of you would stop being such fools and finally reach happiness.”

Thranduil opened his mouth to refute the comment but he found himself without words, the elf stopped before they could reach the place where Kíli and Tauriel seemed to be conversing animatedly.

“It is not that easy.”

“It is, Thranduil. It really is.” Bilbo squeezed the elf’s hand lightly. “Please, do not deny yourself this chance.”

“He is promised to someone else.”

“Not yet, you have until the end of the month to show him what his heart already knows” Bilbo stated firmly.

“And, what is that?” Thranduil finally asked after a moment of silence.

“That he loves you as much as you love him.” Bilbo then stepped forward leaving his last comment in the air. “You just have to make sure he remembers it.”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The morning had come to the mountain with the news of the apparent acceptance of courtship from the King to the proposal made by one of the council men of Iron Hills.

The dwarves of Erebor were completely surprised and many of them were slightly wary by this new compromise. Of course, many of them were waiting for their King to settle in and build a family the same way he had re-build Erebor; however, everyone had come to accept Fíli as the heir to the Throne not many thought there was another possibility.

While the rumor spread through the mountain, those closest to Thorin confronted their friend about this sudden decision. Thorin wasn’t sure how to answer to some of the questions done to him, though Thorin was completely sure many of them were going to support him.

He was wrong though.

His friends had been quite upset about the news.

And his family….well, they weren’t happy either.

Thorin winced when he saw Dís hitting the table, her face was red by the fierce scolding she was landing on her brother. Fíli and Kíli were sitting right behind their mother, both of them were glancing at their uncle with undecipherable stares, Thorin felt as if the world was conspiring against him. He really couldn’t understand why his decision had caused such an uproar amongst his friends and family; he could even swear King Bard was about to hit him when he made the declaration.

“…And to accept it?!! What were you thinking, Thorin?” Dís placed her hands on the desk eyeing her brother harshly.

“I was thinking it was about time for me to settle down completely and make sure my blood line continued through an heir of my own blood.” Thorin replied grumbling, Fíli looked away for a moment to try to hide the hurt in his eyes.

Kíli crossed his arms lifting his chin in defiance, his eyes glaring at his uncle who realized too late he had hurt his nephews with such words.

“I didn’t mean…”

“You did.” Dís said coldly.

Thorin passed a hand through his hair shaking his head, “Dís, it was not my intention to say this so bluntly. However, I am not normal dwarf; I haven’t been one for a very long time since I decided on the quest to recover Erebor.”

Dís huffed crossing her arms Fíli was evading his uncle’s eyes while Kíli was still looking at him intently. Thorin shifted on his chair, he felt trapped in a world of compromises and obligations he didn’t agree with completely. The night before, his answer had left his mouth even before he was well aware of what he was promising to do; a part of him knew he needed to try, he was a King and thus it was his obligation to seek this kind of alliances. Another part of him felt…empty, as if he had just taken a step into a dark, empty hole; his heart shrank painfully in his chest while his mind poke painfully at his memories.

“This marriage could be beneficial for Erebor.” Thorin leaned back against his chair. “Besides, Vikram didn’t leave me an option. It wouldn’t do good to reject such a proposal in front of our guests.”

“Exactly! This was perfectly plan to be just something they decided as a part of an alliance.” Dís pursed her lips. “Have you talked to Dáin yet?”

“No, I haven’t though he seems eager to speak to me.” Thorin replied leaning forward resting his elbows on his desk. “This doesn’t mean anything, Dís. It is merely the first part of the courting and the engagement cannot be done until the next full moon when I can decided if I want this or not.”

The room was consumed by a sudden silence, Thorin kept his eyes on his sister who was still rather upset about the whole courting incident. Kíli shifted on his chair, he looked at his brother out of the corner of his eyes Fíli looked at him shrugging slightly.

“So, what is going to happen now, uncle? Are you really thinking into accepting this proposal? Are you really…don’t you…” Kíli started speaking though suddenly he seemed very agitated, Thorin furrowed his brows focusing his attention on the youngest of his nephews.

Kíli stood up walking towards the desk, he could feel his brother’s eyes on him while the soft reassuring hand of his mother placed itself on his shoulder. Thorin eyed his nephew and in his eyes he saw a maturity he didn’t notice before.

“Are you really so forgetful and so resentful as to not remember what your heart really wants?”

Thorin felt confused for a moment, he felt his mouth open slightly to retort only to find himself speechless. He eyed Kíli just as his mind tried to find a reason behind such a statement, the Dwarven-King’s heart beat strongly inside his chest while flashes of the dreams haunting him during the nights came rushing almost immediately. Gold and silver invaded the mind of the dwarf, Thorin could see clearly the traces of an amused smirk while a melodious voice filled his senses; just as fast as the images came a sharp pain broke inside his head. The Dwarven-King bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from showing any sign of pain, his eyes flickered from Dís to Kíli and then to Fíli, all three of them waiting for something , for his answer, for his words…perhaps, even for Thorin to speak about the dreams he had been having for quite some time.

“Kíli, what…”

A knock at the door broke the conversation between them, Thorin broke eye contact with his nephew to turn his attention to the door. Dís squeezed her son’s shoulder giving him a sympathetic smile, Kíli pursed his lips letting go of his mother before making his way to the door. There was Balin and Dáin, both of them looking serious and rather tired, Kíli shot his uncle one last glance before leaving the office. Fíli stood up following his brother while Dís let out a heavy sigh, Balin and Dáin watched both younglings leave before turning back to the siblings in the office.

“Did we interrupt something?” Dáin inquired moving inside the office before taking the chair Fíli had been occupying moments ago.

“More or less.” Thorin replied musing over Kíli’s words. “Though, I want to talk to you.”

Dáin snorted shaking his head, “I bet you do, cousin. Though, for now your presence is required on the main event, we have come to gather you and Dís.”

Thorin nodded standing up while fixing his formal robes and putting the crown on his head. Dáin sat there while Balin took Thorin speaking to the King about the protocol he were to follow during the celebration, Dáin lifted his eyes to see Dís was still there with conflicting emotions showing on her eyes.

“You look worried.” Dáin mumbled.

“I am.” Dís cocked her head to stare at her cousin. “Thorin is a great leader, his mere presence inspire others to follow him. He is a great King, he has been leading us ever since my father disappeared and he took upon himself the Throne as if he had always been there.”

“But, he is a fool.” Dáin shrugged standing up. “I know, he hasn’t remembered anything yet, has he?”

“No, you know he can’t.” Dís straightened up glancing at the open door. “Tell me the truth, Dáin. What is this whole courtship really about?”

“Politics, cousin…Politics and the promise of a dark shadow to give the High Council of the Iron Hills power beyond measure.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Erebor stood still and silent.

The dwarven population had occupied the different streets or spaces inside the mountain, all of them trying to see the great pyre of fire made especially for this occasion. The pyre was standing right in front of the main gates surrounded by the high royal guards, King Bard and King Thranduil were standing just to King Thorin’s right, to Thorin’s left were his family and the twelve members of his company.  The cold wind of winter surrounded them, the flames on the torches flickered though not a single one of them extinguish; Thorin stood forward taking the torch a young dwarf handed him, the Dwarven-King stepped forward and throw the torch to the pyre. The yellow and orange flames soon covered it and a great fire started right in front of Erebor and all the presents. Not a single sound was made as everyone remembered a time in which fire came to the Valley and the Mountain and consumed everything their ancestors had built with effort. Silence was the respectful way to pray for those who had fallen while trying to recover the mountain, it was the moment in which everyone remembered the different sacrifices done to call the mountain home and to have a resemblance of peace and happiness.

Thorin observed the flames for a long time, his fist clenched recalling the coming of Smaug. He stepped back bumping against someone standing behind him, turning around Thorin saw Thranduil standing there his eyes were looking strangely, reflecting the gleaming flames of the fire.

“It never gets easy.” Thranduil commented with his face still.

Thorin eyed the elf with certain suspicion before speaking, “No, though we can always make sure those who lost their lives are remembered with honor.”

Thranduil felt his lips twitched slightly, he cocked his head and Thorin could swear he saw sadness in those beautiful features.

“There is no honor in dead, King Thorin. Only dead.”

Thorin had never heard such bitterness in the elf, he usually received sarcasm and mockery. The heat coming from the pyre reached them, the smell of burn wood filled the dwarf’s nostrils as he glanced at the elf standing beside him.

“There must be some kind of honor when you died defending what you believe in. What you love.” Thorin shifted uncomfortably, he looked back at the fire. “Dead must have some kind of meaning or else, fighting and going to war against evil can end up being meaningless.”

Thranduil blinked his hand twitching as he suddenly felt the pain of his wounds pulsated with animosity. Thorin tilted his head observing the sudden tension in the elf, his eyes went to the twitching arm to the blank face of the elf.

“Are you all right?” Thorin inquired softly.

“I am.” Thranduil straightened up, he then lowered his eyes to glance at Thorin and it wasn’t until then Thorin realized something.

He remembered those silver eyes of the elf, always cold and piercing, Thranduil had the most enchanting eyes Thorin had ever seen. Many times, when he was younger and more naïve, he used to seek out those silver eyes only to see the light of diamonds and silver before looking away as to not get caught in such an improper act. Now, they seemed different, as if some kind of white veil had fallen on top of them covering part of their charm behind it.  However, before Thorin |could comment on this Thranduil straightened up looking away speaking, his voice sounding polite and numb.

“Congratulations, by the way, may this courtship bring you happiness, King Thorin.”

For some reason, Thorin felt hollow with his body tingling with a deep longing he could not understand. Thranduil bowed his head turning around only to be stopped by the hand of the Dwarven-King, Thorin blinked watching his hand grasping the wrist of the elf, Thranduil stopped though he ever turned to face Thorin.

“Thank you.” Thorin said dumbly. “I…”

This time around Thranduil did turn slightly to shoot Thorin a curious expression, the dwarf felt his cheeks burn slightly before he cleared his throat and then let go of the elf.

“I mean, thank you, King Thranduil. It is a change, for the better.” Thorin felt his mouth go dry.

“Of course. You are a King, after all.” Thranduil replied before walking away.

Thorin stood there, his body tensing up while his heart begged him to follow the elf. He didn’t though. He stood there until Bilbo came to him, the hobbit’s elbow hitting him slightly while the hobbit cleared his throat.

“The speech, Thorin.” Bilbo rolled his eyes when Thorin looked slightly lost, then a look of realization crossed his face and soon Thorin went to the great podium to speak to his people and his guest.

*****

For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about Thranduil.

Thorin turned around, rolling on his bed while trying to scare away the thoughts of those eyes and that ivory skin. He tried to shake those emotions bursting from his chest at the mere thought of the elf.  Thorin was trying to understand why the closeness to Thranduil made his body and mind go on an overload while his heart merely hurt in ways he had never known. The Dwarven-King was trying to remember when he started feeling like this but was unable to find a satisfactory answer, he only recalled animosity and fights, childish bickering with the Elven-King that only showed just how much they hated one another.  Though, if he was honest to himself it had been more or less a year since he had last seen the elf. Thorin furrowed his brows for a moment, he tried to recall when he had seen Thranduil the last time and his answer brought an alarm to his head. Was it a few months ago? A year ago? Two years ago?

Thorin felt a growing headache as he kept on rolling this thoughts inside his head.

“Stupid elf.” Thorin grumbled while sitting down on his bed, he really didn’t need this kind of confusion right now. Not when he had announced to Erebor that he had accepted the courtship ritual from the Iron Hills, not when it seemed as if he was ready to start a new life.

Thorin couldn’t afford any confusion or sudden feelings towards anyone much less an elf. And certainly, not the Elven-King.

Admitting defeat, Thorin stood up and decided to go out for a stroll. He covered his body with light clothing, his feet covered with leathery boots. He walked alone on the different halls leading to the main bridge right above the gates of Erebor. The Dwarven-King felt the cold breeze of winter touching his face, the bright silver light of the moon lit up the earth spreading before the mountain. Thorin leaned against the wall watching the valley with his blue eyes, suddenly he caught a strange sight down on the ground. He furrowed his brows narrowing his eyes while trying to decipher what his eyes were observing.

His heart speed up as he took in the ethereal form of the Elven-King standing his full height with a sword on his right arm, in front of him was the red-head captain of his guard and his son. Both of them holding swords on their hands; Thorin clenched his fist closed as he watched the fight happening in the valley. The elves were being watched by two guards, Feren and Galion; Thorin felt as if he was intruding in some private moment when he realized Thranduil lifted his hand ready to strike down his son.

The young elf stopped the strike giving the right sign for a new dance, Thorin could not tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of him. Thranduil moved with grace his hand stretching out perfectly making his sword look just as another extension of his body, his golden hair gleaming under the silver light of the moon while his body gleamed with a light of its own.

But, just as Thorin was watching the scene he realized something.

Legolas and Tauriel were not really fighting to their full capacity, they were taking turns to attack the Elven-King. Thranduil from his part was following a scrip he seemed to have learn a long time ago and, when the sequence reached its end, the Elven-King was left with his ingenuity and creativity. However, nothing came. The only thing that happened was that Thranduil face his son and Captain only to have his sword taken out and his knees touched the ground.

Thorin leaned forward watching as Thranduil stood up with his sword back to his hand, from then on his movements became sloppy and suddenly the Elven-King went rigid, he lift his arm in frustration and Legolas stepped forward unarming his father without any effort. The Dwarven-King watched with confusion growing in his heart…then…he remembered…

Thorin turned around ready to confront Thranduil about what he just realized but found himself face to face with his youngest nephew. Kíli was eyeing his uncle then at the valley, his frown grew deep as he stepped forward.

“How much did you see?” Kíli said to which Thorin could only blink.

“How much do you know?” Thorin asked with a tinged of authority behind his voice.

Kíli shrugged turning to face his uncle, “I know enough, uncle.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes at his nephew, the images of those silver eyes covered by that white mist. Then, this…Kíli lowered his face crossing his arms.

“He is blind.” The young dwarf finally said.

“Blind?” Thorin repeated the words tasting them and finding them poisonous.

Kíli pursed his lips before he faced his uncle, “I shouldn’t be telling you this, uncle. You haven’t cared what happen to King Thranduil before why the sudden interest?”

Thorin felt his headache coming back, his eyes flashed with pain though the Dwarven-King tried to hide it from Kíli. The Dwarven-King mused over the question posed by Kíli and found himself confused and empty, his mind turning around in circles until he felt dizzy. Kíli shook his head in disappointment.

“Promise me you won’t say anything, uncle.” Kíli said firmly.

“How is it that you know of this? Who else knows about…” Thorin trailed off when he realized just how serious Kíli was.

“Please, Uncle Thorin, I have never asked much of you. But, promise me you won’t repeated what you saw or discovered here.” Kíli repeated.

“I promise.” Thorin stated to his nephew. “Just answer me one thing.”

Kíli hesitated for a moment before nodding curtly.

“How long have you known?” Kíli opened his eyes surprised by the question, he then shrugged giving Thorin a half, sad smile.

“Since the beginning, uncle. I was there when it happened.”

And just like that Kíli turned around and left.

After that, Thorin went back to sleep.

But as soon as the Dwarven-King closed his eyes, he dreamt again and this time around he would start remembering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Thranduil is suffering and Thorin is just confused.
> 
> Next time, Thranduil and Thorin are captured and you get to see how they ended up falling in love...or, perhaps, love was already there? 
> 
> I would love to hear your comments or suggestions or whatever you would like to see here.


End file.
